


Finishing Sentences

by rising



Series: Afterwards (ST:TNG) [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Arguing, M/M, Post-Canon, Rules, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-07
Updated: 2011-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:03:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rising/pseuds/rising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a few things that Jean-Luc Picard does not let William Riker talk about. And when Number One tries, he finds himself unable to actually finish a sentence. Still, sometimes transgressions are forgiven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finishing Sentences

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a good bit after ST:TNG, in terms of timeframe.

"All due respect, sir," Riker begins, glancing towards the ceiling, breaking the eye contact he'd had. Then he glances back towards the reception room, where the tea they'd been having has been left abandoned in the face of other pursuits, which have also been abandoned. For once, it's a good thing that they're in Picard's quarters, in private. No one else on the ship has to see them arguing, in any case. No one else on the ship has to know. Or at least, no one has to know more than they already do. It's been the best kept open secret in the entire ship for years, now, and he knows they both prefer it stay that way.

Jean-Luc Picard pauses, eyebrows raised. "Go on. Since when do you hold your tongue?"

A moment of silence follows the question before Riker manages an answer, muffled tones choked back by trying not to laugh. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"This is unlike you, Number One," Picard says, a hint of question in his voice. "Go ahead." The captain of the USS Enterprise-E grimaces, quietly. He knows what's coming next though, really, and it's one of those things that he never likes the sound of. One of the few things that he has forbidden Will from talking of, regardless of the mutual importance. One of the things they've sworn wouldn't actually happen again. Business hours are best left for business. "Just get on with it."

"I was just going to say that all of this today reminds me that we ought to quit talking and just get to—"

"Nevermind." The word is snapped, abruptly, in the middle of Riker's sentence, and Picard shakes his head.

"You said—"

"Whatever I said, I take it back," Picard continues, a step forward as he lays his hand on Riker's shoulder, gentle and almost intimate in contradiction to his words. "Permission to speak freely rescinded. I don't want to hear it, there'll be time enough later."

Riker nods, tension in his stance having dissipated, if involuntarily. He knows that was Picard's intention, anyway. A long moment of silence follows as they stand there, and Riker takes a step forward in response. Eventually, though, the urge to speak his mind wins against the order not to, regardless of consequences. There have been consequences in the past, and he's always dealt with them. He'll deal again. "But, Jean-Luc—"

"Don't 'but, Jean-Luc' me, Number One. Please. I don't want to hear it," comes the next response, snappish even for the low tones with which he speaks, his forehead tilting down to rest against that of the first officer. "Not now. Can't we talk about something else, other than this hell of a day? It's the first time we've had a moment to breathe in weeks and all you talk about is business."

"I was talking about work only because you were," Riker responds, contrite. "Still, you dealt with things better, back then—"

Picard sighs, straightening for a moment. "Please, William?" It's the rare occasion that the captain phrases things as that much of a question, rarer yet the pleading in his tone. Rules are rules, and this one especially. Picard doesn't like the way this conversation goes, and he most certainly doesn't want a repeat of the incident in question. It was one thing when they were younger and this command was new. It would be an entirely different thing now.

"And we danced more," Riker finishes, tone gentle, not letting Picard draw away too far. The captain's arguments work. Please always work, because Riker's soft like that. Not letting Picard draw away at all, even. He speaks again, leaning in against Picard's shoulder, quietly. "And sometimes—"

"Go on."

"Just sometimes, you let me finish my sentences." The words are coaxing now, only breath against Picard's neck, and if Riker really minded all the interruptions, it no longer shows. It's a familiar song and dance between the two of them, and the argument over work matters that spawned it has long ceased. "The two things were related, I think."

But Picard isn't in the mood. Not anymore, not this time. "We should go make our presences known on the bridge," Picard counters. "Before they page either of us, and it happens again."

William Riker frowns, and then just nods, before letting the captain go, steps backwards to a respectable, reasonable, normal conversational distance between the two of them. Smooth movements fuss out the wrinkles in his uniform, even if it doesn't stop him from feeling where there's no longer a hand on his shoulder. "Separately, this time, if you would?" he asks. The impulse to tack 'sir' to the end of the sentence is ignored, he's in enough trouble as it is. "Regardless of," and he pauses, grasping for words, "anything, there are appearances to be maintained."

A smile is the first response from Jean-Luc, and for a moment, the only. "Unlike last time, I suppose," he adds, wry. The transgressions of the moment and of the argument are forgiven, and it takes some time before the captain lets his hand fall to his side. "Make it so, I'll join you shortly."


End file.
